When my sister asked me to carry her baby, I said yes before she could even finish asking.
Claire had wanted to be a mother for as long as I could remember. She was the little girl who tucked dolls into blankets, the teenager everyone trusted to babysit, and the woman who smiled through baby showers even when I knew her heart was breaking…. Continue Reading
So when she appeared at my door with red eyes and trembling hands, I already knew something terrible had happened.
“Sarah, can we talk?”
I poured her coffee without asking.
She sat at my kitchen table, wrapped both hands around the mug, and stared down at it like she was trying not to fall apart.
“The doctors said it’s final,” she whispered. “I can’t carry a baby. Not safely. Not ever.”
My heart dropped.